Eternally
by CrimsonRice
Summary: DracoHarry. Death brings new life and greater problems. For Harry Potter, death brings changes and unexpected love. But everyone knows love never comes easily, especially for the BoyWhoLived.


**_Eternally_**

By CrimsonRice

Disclaimer: You get the gist, I don't own HP or anything related. In fact the only think I own is the computer I'm working with, my typing skills, grammar skills (those exist? Oo;) and the concept of this story.

Notes: dark-ish fic. Contains character suicide, gore, adult concepts and language. If any of this offends you, then you might want to go elsewhere. I will not change my fic for anyone. If I am reported, so help me I will hunt you down in a dangerous rage and the result will not be pretty. Okay, so I'll actually bitch about it, but that's about all. Now enjoy, and review. I enjoy feedback, it lets me know that there are people out there that like my idea and think I am a little piece of talent.

_**Chapter Prelude**_

Many things are made beautiful by the moon's light. In fact, almost everything has a changed appearance beneath the moon's silver glow. Rivers look black like blood, and blood looks thick like tar. The reflection of the moon in water is a glorious sight. The reflection of the moon in a crimson pond captures attention, attracts the gaze of onlookers and enraptures the pained victim.

The moonlight reflecting from lightly tanned skin enhanced the long, deep slice from elbow to wrist, accentuated the dark sparkling crimson lines as blood flowed from the wound. With the sharp edge of a cool silver blade, an identical slice drew down the left arm; elbow to wrist. Carefully, blood splattering along the gray sheets as the wounded arm moved, the blade was set on the bedside table beside the small electronic clock that read three minutes to midnight.

Harry Potter, 16 years 364 days 23 hours and 56 minutes old, lay back on his ragged old bed. His head rested on his pillow, turned toward the window, and his eyes stared down at the growing crimson mass. He thought a lot during the past two years; right down to the very moment of his death, in fact. The pain of losing loved ones to war was too great for the young Gryffindor. Like all pain, it finally got to him. He thought many times of how he would die. Cursed by Voldemort, tortured by Death Eaters, raped and beaten to death; it all consisted of the fate that would be handed to him by his arch nemesis, Voldemort.

_I'll be damned if I ever let that son-of-a-bitch kill me._ He thought that very same thing in the moment he decided upon his fate. His death would not be handed to him by fate or Voldemort, no. He could never allow such a thing. To take his own life, provide his own death, however… that was another thing. After all, they say it is the bravest of men who commit suicide, though it may be a coward's way out.

He planned it right down to the day and time. He even made preparations for the event. The Dursley's were out of the house for a month, their newly acquired vacation courtesy of Vernon Dursley's new promotion. This provided the perfect opportunity. He only wished he could see the looks on his relatives' faces when they discover his bloodless body, slowly decomposing in the open air. A cold chill ran down his back at the simple thought of what comes to one's body after death. He could never imagine that condition for himself.

_Although… soon, I won't have to._ A glance at the clock told him that a minute and thirty seconds had gone by. Two and a half minutes until midnight. As he stared back at the ever-growing puddle of crimson, his mind became fuzzy, his sight a slow blur. Blood-loss surely made thinking a difficult task, let alone focusing.

His thoughts jumped from his friends to his classmates and to one person in particular. Draco Malfoy. _Now you have no one to hate as much as you hated me…_ vaguely his mind processed the thought, hardly able to understand it. His head lulled to the left again, seeking out the blurry numbers on the clock. Thirty seconds.

He rolled his head back to the moon's glow. Slowly, his eyes closed and a final conscious thought penetrated his mind. _A full moon…_

The glowing red numbers on the digital clock flickered once as they changed, signifying a change in the day. A final breath was exhaled, and a small smile came to his lips. Harry Potter would be eternally 17.


End file.
